


Only Thing That Can Quench My Thirst

by eyesofshinigami



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And Harry is supportive because of course he is, Blow Jobs, Facials, Kink Exploration, Louis has an existential crisis, M/M, Pubic Hair, yes that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5198942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofshinigami/pseuds/eyesofshinigami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wouldn't exactly call it a <i>thing</i>, his newfound fascination with the curly trail that starts below Harry's bellybutton and disapears into his skinny jeans. It's definitely not a thing. It's just... Alright, maybe it's a thing. And that's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Thing That Can Quench My Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. This came about from an idea I got in the shower and morphed into this strange sort of meta piece about kinks and partnerships. So, come for the porn, stay for the plot.
> 
> A special thanks to [Bearandleonardwrite](http://www.erikabearikuh.tumblr.com) for her beta! Also special shoutouts go to [canonlarry](http://www.canonlarry.tumblr.com), [larendipity](http://www.larendipity.tumblr.com), and [littlelostpieces](http://www.littlelostpieces.tumblr.com) for listening to me whinge about this and for talking it through with me. This wouldn't be half of what it was without you guys. <3
> 
> Title taken from "Striptease" by Hawksley Workman

It all starts with a pair of low-slung skinny jeans. 

Harry's doing his usual frolicking around on stage when it catches Louis' eye. He's not sure why it suddenly strikes him at that moment, but it takes everything in him not to stare. He probably looks like a right twat for it, too. But honestly, the last thing he needs is for a million pictures of his eyes zeroed in on his boyfriend's crotch plastered all over the internet. 

Or, more specifically, the fuzzy trail of hair leading down into the faintest bit of curls peeking out over the waistband of Harry's trousers. 

It's like when you're trying not to stare at someone or something, and you have to physically force yourself not to make eye contact. Or dick contact, as the case may be. It's not like Louis hasn't seen Harry naked enough times to know what his pubic hair looks like, which is why he's baffled by his own sudden intrigue. It's just pubes.

Apparently not, considering the way he nearly misses his next cue and has to clear his mind before he stumbles over the words. It's not his fault, really. Harry's usually much more meticulous about his grooming habits, trimming it back or shaving it all together. 

They've been so busy with the tour and their other obligations that it wouldn't surprise him in the slightest that Harry's been a bit lax. Also, the only sort of sex they'd been having through all of it is rushed handjobs and quick and dirty blowjobs, which is probably why he hasn't noticed either. 

But now, Louis can't seem to stop thinking about it. Soft, downy curls that he can card his fingers through before giving it a good yank. Well, that was certainly new. His cock twitches at the thought and Louis decides that he probably needs to think about this somewhere other than on stage where hundreds of thousands of people will notice if he starts to chub up in his skinnies. 

He spends the rest of the show pointedly not looking at Harry, not even when his shirt rides up and he gets another good look at his treasure trail. Damn him and his loose, flowy shirts. 

When they finally make it off stage, Louis rushes off to the dressing room that he and Harry are sharing without another word. His mind is too busy thinking about wispy hair and golden skin to manage a coherent conversation that doesn't revolve around Harry's pubic hair. 

He's seriously contemplating smacking himself when he hears the door open before warm, familiar arms wrap around him. "You okay?" Harry asks, voice deliciously rough from being on stage. 

Louis has to swallow down the whimper bubbling in his throat. "Yeah, fine. Just distracted." He turns around and pecks Harry on the nose before sneaking his fingers up Harry's shirt. The material slides like silk against his knuckles and it feels like a live wire on his skin when Harry's hair tickles his fingertips.

"And by distracted, you mean horny," Harry replies with a snort. He presses closer to Louis and his shirt rides up, giving him an excellent view of just what had him distracted in the first place.

He doesn't try to deny it, sucking in a breath and ghosting his thumbs across the laurels on Harry's stomach. "You know me so well. Wanna fuck you right here," he breathes out. He's not lying; he just leaves out the part about wanting to press his nose into the curls at the base of Harry's cock. That thought sends a ripple of heat through him and his own cock twitches in his pants. Fuck. "Think we have time?" 

Harry shakes his head, but doesn't move away. "I think we're going to clear out soon. Raincheck for when we get back to the hotel?" he asks with a cheeky grin. 

Louis most certainly doesn't groan at that. He might spontaneously combust if he doesn't do something about this soon. "Fine, fine. But I'll remind you that you're the one who passed up on kinky couch sex at the venue in the future." He steps back and it physically pains him to stop touching Harry. All he wants is to press him up against the door, touch him and taste him and satiate this strange craving that's suddenly boiling in his belly. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Of course, Lou. That doesn't mean we can't still have incredibly kinky sex in our luxurious hotel room, you know."

Another bolt of heat frizzles up Louis' spine and he nearly has to stop to catch his breath. If Harry only knew... "I suppose that can be arranged," he says, like he's not about to pop the button his skinny jeans just thinking about how much he wants to touch Harry right now. God, how is he even going to walk out of here? 

Harry doesn't respond, he just rolls his eyes and grabs both their bags. "Meet you in the car, jerk," he says, before disappearing out the door. They both know Louis isn't going to deny Harry anything, least of all the opportunity to fuck him so good neither of them can catch their breath. 

Now, if only Louis could forget about wanting to pull on Harry's pubes with his teeth, they'd be golden. 

\---

He manages to keep this newfound obsession of his under wraps, until one night when it strikes at the most opportune time. They're at their home in LA, with nothing but the occasional pap walk for Harry and studio time for Louis for three days. It was the perfect time for them spend their time naked and catching up on all the fucking they didn't get to do while on tour. 

Louis is balls deep and pounding into Harry so hard he's scooting him up the mattress, these beautiful whimpers muffled from where he's smushed into the sheets. He loves Harry like this, arse up and the broad expanse of his back on display where he can see the muscles shift beneath skin turned golden from the LA sun. He's pressing bruises on Harry's hips that he'll wear for days and something about that just makes Louis dig in harder. 

It's when he reaches around to grab Harry's cock that it hits him. The sudden, insatiable urge to tangle his fingers in the coarse curls around Harry's base swells up and before he can even register it, he's bypassing Harry's cock completely. His hips don't stop moving and he lets out a soft moan when he feels the hair against his fingers. It's thick and scratchy and everything that Louis has been wanting, he curls his fingers into a fist and he just _pulls._

The sound that Harry lets out is somewhere between a yelp and a moan and sends heat skittering across Louis' skin like lightning. The sticky head of Harry's cock bumps against his knuckles and he rolls his hips harder, sinking deeper into Harry. An apology is on the tip of his tongue, until Harry rasps out, "Do it again."

Louis might very well pop out of his skin. His own cock flexes and he does what Harry asks, his head swimming with the grunts he's wringing out of Harry between his thrusts and the tugs on his pubes. He feels too small, like his body can't contain just how much this is turning him on. He drapes himself across Harry's back and he starts to alternate between pulling his hair and his cock, much to Harry's obvious pleasure. Louis can feel it in the way his cock is twitching in his grasp, from the sounds he's making. 

"Harder," Harry grounds out and that's it, Louis is done. With one last tug that makes Harry squeal, Louis presses in as he comes, his entire body shaking with it. He comes so hard there are black spots dancing around the edges of his vision and his muscles hurt from bunching so tight. It feels like it goes on forever and his grip never falters, until Harry starts to squirm underneath him. 

Right. He needs to get Harry off too. He deserves it after making him come so hard it hurt, and he knows just what will do the job. 

Before Harry, Louis had never put much thought into sticking his tongue up someone's arse, but he knows that Harry loves it. It's filthy and messy and never fails to make Harry lose it, which is what has Louis pulling out and immediately pressing his face between Harry's cheeks. 

The sound it drags out of Harry is nothing short of exquisite, going higher when he licks a fat stripe across his hole. Harry's squirming back against him as he starts to fuck him with his tongue, where he's slick and open from Louis fucking him. He can taste the bitterness of his own come and underneath, the familiar musky taste of Harry. It pulls a muffled groan out of him, from the sweat and the heat and the way Harry is rocking back against his face. 

He knows if he keeps at it, he could make Harry orgasm from just this, clenching tight around his tongue. So, he doesn't tease, instead he slides two fingers in beside his tongue and begins to thrust again, ignoring the ache in his wrist and in his jaw. 

Harry lets out another beautiful moan and rolls his hips back into the way Louis presses inside of him. "Fuck, Lou, gonna come," he pants from up by the headboard. Louis knows he has him and he twists his wrist so that his fingers press right against Harry's spot. He speeds up his thrusts and licks around his fingers, keeping Harry wet and making it messy. It takes just another prod right into his prostate to have Harry clenching up and gasping, his body going rigid. He fucks his hips back weakly into Louis as he rides it out and Louis almost wishes he had sat up to watch. 

Once Harry has stopped writhing through his aftershocks, Louis pulls out and sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. They're going to need a shower anyway and he's pretty sure he could do with a snack.

He goes to get up, but before he can move, Harry pulls him back into the bed with a grin. "Don't kiss me, I taste like arse," he warns, but it's fruitless when Harry leans over and pecks him on the mouth. 

"At least it's my arse and not anyone else's," Harry reasons. He grabs Louis and rolls them over, away from the wet spot, and cuddles down against Louis' chest. 

It never fails to make Louis' insides light up like Roman candles, even after all these years. "No one's arse is as good as yours." He pets through Harry's curls and closes his eyes. His body feels pleasantly heavy, like it always does after a good round of sex with Harry. It's like he can breathe for the first time in weeks, even though he pointedly ignores why that might be. 

At least, until Harry asks, "So...are we going to talk about it, or what?"

Louis' entire body goes rigid. Of course Harry was going to notice that he came his brains out just by playing with his pubic hair. It's like they've been together for five years or something. "Um..." It's not his most eloquent response, but he genuinely doesn't know what to say. "Well, did it bother you?" he asks finally.

Harry moves off his chest and settles on his belly, head propped on his forearms and tilted towards Louis. "Nah, I mean...you know I like having my hair pulled. Apparently that extends to my pubes," he says with a snort, but sobers up when Louis doesn't laugh. "Lou, it's okay. I just didn't know that was a thing for you."

"But that's just it. It's not like..." he trails off. It's not like the myriad of buttplugs and velcro cuffs in their nightstand, or the pairs of panties tucked into the back of Harry's dresser drawer. It's not like the sex swing hanging in Louis' office or the way that Harry really loves it when Louis blows him on the bus where everyone can hear. It just...is. 

He's just not sure how to put that into words. 

"I don't know, it's just hot. Does it have to be a thing?" Louis asks, defensive in his frustration. He wants to pull his hair out and push his face into the pillow at the same time. 

Thankfully, Harry seems to take it in stride. He nudges at Louis' shoulder with his nose, eyes wide and earnest. "Not at all. I just wanted to make sure, you know? That's what we always do."

Louis relaxes and closes his eyes. Harry isn't wrong; there hasn't been a time he can remember when one of them brought something new to their bedroom and they didn't discuss it. Years together have honed what they both like and what one does for the other because they like it. Why should this be any different? 

"Because you're silly and stubborn and I love you anyway?" Harry says, like he's reading Louis' mind. Then, he adds, "You said that out loud."

"Arse," Louis replies, smiling despite himself. A pleasant lightness has settled into his bones and he can finally enjoy the post-sex calm that's settled around them. Harry's radiating heat and the room still smells like sex and sweat and there's a lingering taste of arse in his mouth, but Louis can deal with it for a while. Instead, he pulls Harry close again, wanting to feel the lines of their bodies together. "I kind of love you a lot, you know."

He can feel Harry grin against his chest. "It's mutual, we've discussed it once or twice." 

Louis groans and throws his unoccupied arm across his eyes. "You're the worst. I take back what I said, I don't love you at all." They both know it's not true, not at all. 

Comfortable silence falls between them, Harry's soft breaths the only sound in the room. Louis is pretty sure he's fallen asleep and is about to join him when he hears him murmur, "You could do it again, if you like. Just ask."

"Hmm, we'll see," Louis gives as a non-answer. He's pretty sure it was just a one-off. It's not anything that's going to happen again.

He wraps his arms around Harry's waist and pulls him close, feeling his eyelids start to droop. His bones feel heavy in the best way and he's just glad that it's out of his system. Now the two of them can just go back to their regularly scheduled sex life, which is pretty amazing if he does say so himself.

It's not going to happen again.

-*-

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just a one time thing. 

It isn't like Louis is constantly thinking about it, nor is it something that he finds himself craving on a regular basis. It's just... every once in awhile, when he watches Harry get out of the shower and sees water clinging to the dark nest of curls around the base of his cock, Louis finds himself wanting to bury his nose in them. He just wants to feel the hair tangled between his fingers and he can't help but remember the pretty noises Harry made when he pulled on his pubes. 

Naturally, he doesn't say anything to Harry. Which is why he has to swallow back his protests when Harry strips down one day to reveal his newly shaved groin. 

"You shaved?" he asks instead. 

Harry shrugs and starts climbing into bed. They're both too tired for anything more than cuddles, but nothing beats cuddling naked. "It was starting to get itchy. Why?" 

The question hits a bit closer than Louis is comfortable with. There's no way he's telling Harry that he might have been right. It's still not a _thing_ , but it might be a little more than just a passing fancy. So, Louis deflects. "Just curious. And surprised by your sudden fastidiousness in your grooming habits. Did you at least clean out the drain after?"

He feels Harry snort against his shoulder. "No, Louis. I thought I would leave it there and surprise you in the morning."

"You animal, I wouldn't put it past you." He shoves Harry playfully, which turns into the two of them rolling around in the sheets trying to tickle the other. Once they're both breathless and laughing, Louis leans over and kisses his nose. "I love you, even if you do leave your pubes in the drain."

"And I love you, even if you're obsessed with my pubes."

Louis chokes out a laugh and can feel his face flaming. "That's not even true. Stop spreading such filthy lies." 

Harry hums in response. That just won't do. 

"Keep it up and I'll shove you out of bed, Styles."

"You wouldn't dare. Who else would keep you warm in the middle of the night?" Harry wraps his arms around Louis and draws him in, as if punctuating his point. "You'd freeze to death."

"Hmph. Might be worth it, after all the trouble you're causing tonight." Even as he scoffs, his hand wanders down and brushes against the smooth skin just under Harry's belly button. As his fingers dance across where Harry's happy trail used to be, Louis finds himself mourning it a little. The urge rises up in him again, but this time, there's nothing to grab. How sad. Not like he's going to say anything about it, though.

Before he can lament too much, Harry bats his hand away, thankfully seeming to misinterpret Louis' wandering fingers. He's not quite ready to have that conversation. "Not tonight, Lou. M' tired. Can I wake you up with a blowjob instead?" Harry whines.

Louis pulls back his hand with a theatrical sigh, but reaches up to tangle it in Harry's curls instead. "I suppose. Though, how about we sixty-nine and call it even?" 

"You drive a hard bargain, Tomlinson. I suppose that can be arranged." Harry's smiling as he leans in to kiss Louis and they share a sleepy snog that warms Louis down to his toes. "Sleepy time?"

"Sleepy time," Louis echoes. The two of them shift and he pulls Harry close to him, nosing against his shoulder and letting his hand splay across Harry's belly. He's warm and solid and smooth, and Louis finds himself petting the soft skin of his groin again. 

It's not a thing, but he might miss the coarse hair there. Just a little.

-

And it continues like that. Harry keeps up with his grooming and it starts to drive Louis a little crazy. It's probably because it's not there, which is why Louis finds himself craving it so much. Their sex doesn't suffer, but Louis is slowly losing his mind. He always thought it would be over stress or their schedule or something like that. 

No, instead it's over his boyfriend's goddamn pubic hair. How pathetic.

He knows he could say something. All he would have to do is say the word and Harry would give him what he wants. But Louis is nothing if not a stubborn bastard and he absolutely refuses to give in. Maybe if it was something he couldn't do without, like Harry's tongue in his arse or Harry's panty collection at home or even the leather cuffs in their bedside table. Then he could see making a big deal about it.

But it's not. Like, he even tries watching porn involving pubic hair during one of his bus nights, but it doesn't do anything for him. His cock gets a little hard because hello it's pretty boys fucking, which makes him think of his own pretty boy, but other than that....nothing. He finally just turns the porn off and instead uses his imagination, remembering how it felt to make Harry whine so prettily when he tugged on his pubes.

He's coming all over his stomach so quick he probably should worry a little bit. 

Strangely, lying there with come cooling on his skin, it puts it into perspective a bit. Maybe it's just a Harry thing and it's not this all consuming kink like he thought it was. And _maybe_ he might be acting a bit overdramatic over this whole thing. 

Now, he's just got to figure out _how_ to bring it up to Harry. 

It shouldn't be that hard, they're practically married (no, like...literally, they just need to fill out paperwork and that will be that) and neither of them have ever had any trouble discussing things that involve their bedroom activities, but for some reason Louis finds himself with a mental block. He's not sure why it's so weird, or why he keeps feeling like he should just let it go. 

Normally, in a crisis like this, he would go find Zayn and they would smoke up and then Louis would ramble nonsensically at him until he managed to make his point. Then Zayn would say something super serious and life-changing and Louis would heed his words. But Zayn's not here and Louis really doesn't think they're the kind of friends that discuss things involving their significant other's body hair. No, Louis must go through this alone.

He tries, he really does. He corners Harry after concerts, but that usually ends with Harry's mouth wrapped around his cock and by the time he remembers, Harry's snoring into his ear and the moment has passed. He can't exactly mention it at mealtimes, and they tend to get distracted when they're alone in their hotel as well. It just seems like the entire universe is against him when it comes to his strange relationship with Harry's currently non-existent pubic hair. 

Finally, Louis decides, he's just going to let it go. He might be a stubborn little shit, but he knows when to take a hint. Things are perfectly fine the way they are and their sex is certainly not lacking, so why make ripples? It is what it is and that's that.

-*-

Naturally, just like everything else in Louis' life in the last few years, he gets thrown a curveball.

It's on the first night back after their break, Louis and Harry having been apart taking care of their respective business, when it happens. They haven't done much more than FaceTime and the occasional Skype call that didn't take a turn for the sexy, so by the time the show ends Louis is practically vibrating with the need to get his hands on Harry. He's not even sure he can make it to the hotel and he knows Harry will be perfectly fine with that. It must show on his face because both Niall and Liam make themselves scarce. 

He's got Harry crowded up against the wall, a knee slotted between his thighs. He bites his lip around the feeling of Harry's hard cock grinding against the tense muscle. "You looked so good, fuck, I want you so bad," he grits out before leaning to suck a mark on Harry's neck. Not so deep to leave a bruise, but enough to make Harry squirm underneath him. "Missed you, darling."

"Would never have guessed," Harry replies breathlessly. He's beautifully flushed and slightly sweaty and Louis has to have him now. "Gonna fuck me right here? Can't even wait to get me back to the hotel?" 

"Nope. I think I'm going to suck you off right here, where anybody could see you panting for me." His words hit right where he wants them to, Harry's whines filling the air as he pushes his hips up against Louis. That's his cue to drop to his knees, fingers already pulling on the zip of Harry’s jeans. He’s mouthing at the sliver of skin above Harry’s pants when he yanks them down and. Oh god. 

_Harry hasn’t shaved._

“Surprise,” Harry purrs above him, but Louis can barely hear him over the dull roar in his ears. His neck prickles as heat works its way down to pool in his belly. If he wasn’t already hard, that would have been enough to get him there. “Lou? Is it-?"

He doesn’t let Harry finish. He yanks down Harry’s pants and trousers the rest of the way before tangling his fingers in the wiry hair. Harry’s cock bumps against his cheek and leaves a sticky smear, which only makes Louis even hotter. He pulls and shudders at the noise Harry lets out. It reminds him of that first time, when he’d been balls deep and Harry had told him to pull harder. Fuck, Louis’ cock is pressing against his zip and his head is spinning.

“Why?” he croaks out.

Harry shrugs and runs his hand through Louis’ hair, pulling him even closer. “Dunno. Wanted to. I know you like it, no matter how much you try to deny it.” 

Louis can’t stop the way his stomach twists at how earnest Harry is, how nobody else in the world would indulge his whims like Harry does. It’s a combination of that and how he finally has what he wants that has him wrapping his mouth around the head of Harry’s cock. It’s hot and thick and familiar, a welcome weight on his tongue as Louis takes him in inch by inch. It’s a stretch, like it always is, but it’s nothing short of perfect. He starts to bob his head as he sucks, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped in Harry’s curls.

It isn’t until he takes Harry all the way down, his nose pressed against the thick patch of hair above his cock that Louis lets out a moan. He smells sharper here, hot and musky and so, so good that Louis’ head is fucking spinning. He stays there until he nearly runs out of air, before his throat is spasming around the head of Harry’s cock and he has to pull off. He releases Harry’s cock with a loud slurp and looks up at him.

Harry’s pupils have completely eclipsed the green of his iris and he’s looking like he wants nothing more than to wreck Louis. “Fuck, love when you suck me. Is it different?” he asks, biting his lip. 

“S’good,” Louis slurs. He’s mouthing around the head and letting his tongue drag across the slit. And it is, so good that he hasn’t let go of Harry’s pubes and he gives them another tug. “You’re so fucking hot, I love you so much.” He grins when Harry’s cock twitches against his mouth. 

“I’d love you more if you’d finished what you started, fuck!” Louis gives him another sharp pull and his cock twitches again. 

Louis doesn’t respond. Instead, he wraps his lips around Harry and sucks him down again, using Harry’s curls to pull him closer. It’s not really so much Harry fucking his mouth as it is Louis using his pubes to do it for him. That thought has him scrambling one-handed to pop his button and pull his cock out. He groans around Harry as he starts to stroke himself, so hard he’s almost too sensitive. He gets a rhythm going, fucking up into his fist as he bobs on Harry’s cock. His head is buzzing and he feels hot all over, like he’s going to burst out of his skin. He can feel his orgasm pooling in his stomach, so he stops himself and squeezes tight at the base of his cock to stop it. 

Harry has started babbling above him, his hands lightly framing Louis’ face but not pulling or pushing. They’re just resting there like the touch grounds him. “Your mouth, god, Louis I missed your mouth, fuck, oh god.”

It’s so hot, the way that Harry can’t control himself when Louis’ sucking him and he yanks his hair again. The high whimper that Harry lets out has Louis squeezing own cock again so he doesn’t come. He speeds up the bobs of his head and sucks around the head on each upstroke, desperate to make Harry come. He can feel him flexing against his tongue and hears the sharp, panting breaths that mean that Harry’s getting close. Louis starts to pull on his hair again as he guides his mouth up and down, swallowing when the head of Harry’s cock pushes into his throat. It’s years of practice taking Harry like this that keeps him from gagging, instead he breathes out through his nose until he pulls off. 

“Louis, please, wanna come, please,” Harry begs and Louis can’t help but oblige, sinking back down and sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks. He gives one last firm tug that has Harry pulling back and letting out a low groan. His cock jerks and it takes Louis a moment to realize that Harry’s coming all over his face. The head of his cock flares against Louis’ mouth and leaves hot, wet trails all over his chin and cheeks as he finishes coming. It’s not like it’s never happened before. That was just… very unexpected. 

But if Harry keeps looking at him like that, like he’s going to devour him, Louis can’t be upset. Before Louis has the chance to say anything, Harry drops to his knees beside him and bats his hand away from his cock, taking it in hand. He starts to stroke just the way he knows Louis likes and it sends ripples of electricity up and down Louis’ spine. “Look at you, all messy with my come. Love when you’re covered in me like this,” Harry breathes out against his cheek. He leans close and starts to drag his tongue through the come on his face, lapping it up like a favorite treat. It’s dirty in the best way and Louis can’t stop shuddering. 

Once Harry licked up all the come, he trails sucking kisses along Louis’ jaw until he’s breathing right against his ear. “You’re so hard, I can feel it. I wanted to surprise you, you know. You think I don’t see you, looking at my cock to see if it’s there.” They both know what he means by _it_ , so Louis doesn’t say anything. “I purposefully let it grow out for you, wanted to see your face when you saw me for the first time.”

Louis isn’t proud of the whimper he lets out, hips bucking up against the grip Harry has on him. His cock is so hard it hurts but the gliding strokes Harry’s giving him are perfect. More than perfect, if the boiling pressure in his tummy is anything to go by. He feels it building and his cock is flexing in Harry’s hand. 

When he doesn’t say anything, Harry takes that as his cue to continue. “I love how it gets you hot, playing with my pubes. Your eyes get all glassy and you bite your lip. Fuck, makes me so hard thinking about it. I’ll keep them long all the time if you want, let you pull on them as much as you want.” 

He isn’t sure if that’s what does it, or it’s the way Harry rolls his palm over the head of his cock and squeezes just underneath the head. He throws his head back and his entire body jerks with the force of his orgasm. Harry strokes him through the aftershocks until he comes down, letting Louis collapse against him when he’s finished trembling. He hadn’t noticed he still has a death grip on Harry’s pubic hair until he looks down between them. Whoops. 

They probably look absolutely ridiculous, breathing hard and pressed together with their spent cocks hanging out of their pants. Harry’s briefs and jeans are still tangled around his ankles, even. “We’re so pathetic,” Louis rasps out with a laugh.

“Excuse you, I prefer to think that we’re so hot we couldn’t be arsed to wait. Don’t put down our awesome sex, Tomlinson. It might not happen again with that kind of attitude.”

Louis laughs again, leaning up to kiss Harry. It’s warm and soft and tastes a little bit like come, but Louis can live with that. When they break apart a few moments later, he licks his lips. “So. Um,” he starts to say. 

Harry smirks as he watches Louis fumble around for words, the bastard. “Let’s try this again once we’ve showered and we’re in bed, yeah?” Despite the smug look on Harry’s face, Louis feels gratitude balloon in his chest. He doesn’t really want to have this conversation where anyone could hear. 

They manage to make themselves look somewhat presentable and they head out of the dressing room they share. Thankfully, people are still breaking things down and packing up, so nobody seems to notice that it’s painfully obvious what just happened. Harry’s still flushed and his curls are a sweaty mess, and Louis knows he probably doesn’t look much better. Once one of their aides catches sight of them, they’re ushered into a van behind the stadium that will take them to their hotel for the night. Louis is suddenly hit with just how exhausted he is. The post-show adrenaline crash coupled with the fantastic sex he just had has him laying his head on Harry’s shoulder.

The next thing he knows, Harry’s gently shaking him awake. “Babe, we’re at the hotel. Let’s go get you to bed,” he says softly, as if he doesn’t look just as tired as Louis feels. They trudge up to their room and manage to shower quickly enough that it feels like only minutes have gone by. It isn’t until they’re tucked into bed, Harry’s back to his front, that Harry brings it up again. “So. You seemed pleased with your surprise.”

Louis feels heat crawl up his face and the back of his neck prickles a bit. “Um, yes. I did. More than I want to admit, actually.” He’s glad that Harry’s already switched off the lamp on the nightstand, so he can’t see how red Louis has gone. “I know it’s weird, but thank you.”

Harry shifts and turns over in his arms so that they’re face to face. “Don’t say that. So it’s something that gets you hot, what does it matter?” he asks, voice so earnest it makes Louis’ chest hurt with how much he loves him. When Louis doesn’t answer, he adds, “Lou, it’s fine. Just because I don’t get it doesn’t mean that’s bad. It’s hot for me that you think it’s so hot. I love watching you get all riled up about it.”

“So you don’t mind?” Louis asks in a small voice. 

He gets a smacking kiss on his nose that makes him laugh, unable to help it. “I meant what I said. The bit of pain when you pull it’s nice, but really, it’s knowing that you’re getting off on it that gets me hot. It’s not as bad as you think it is. I mean, you could be into weirder things, like tickling.” Before Louis can react, Harry is tickling up under his ribs and making him squirm on the bed. “See? That isn’t even getting you hard!”

“Of course not, you idiot!” Louis wheezes out. He’s laughing so hard that tears are pooling in his eyes and he’s desperately trying to shove Harry off of him. “All right, all right! Fuck, stop!” 

Harry digs his fingers in one last time before he stops, leaning down to kiss Louis on the nose again. “But I do think you owe me something for being right. And for surprising you.”

“How about me not shoving you out of this bed? You’d deserve it for the tickling,” Louis retorts even as he cuddles Harry close to him again. A knot loosens in his chest and maybe Harry’s right. For the first time in what feels like forever, Louis can breathe. Trust Harry to figure out a way to make it all okay without even trying too hard. It’s why Louis loves him so much. “So, what exactly do you want?”

Harry taps his chin like he’s thinking really hard. “I don’t know. The possibilities are endless. I think I’ll take a raincheck for now. I’ll think of something really good, I promise.” He turns back over and fits himself against Louis so that the curve of his back is right up against Louis’ chest. He can feel Harry’s heart thumping through the skin of his back and he hopes Harry can feel his too. 

He presses his nose against Harry’s hair, inhaling the warm, clean familiar scent. “I love you, you know. So much,” he whispers softly, not wanting to break the peace of the moment.

He isn’t sure Harry hears him until he replies back sleepily, “I love you too. Always.”

They fall asleep like that, warm and sated and pressed together like perfect pieces of a puzzle.

-*-

Life goes on, Louis finds out. Just because he discovered a new thing he likes in bed, the world keeps turning and their days are still filled with shows and screams and endless amounts of go, go, go. He was sort of expecting things to change, but they don’t. He and Harry still get caught snogging by their crew and they still have to play every night to thousands of people before crashing on couches and beds that change all the time. It’s just now… Harry’s less meticulous when it comes to his grooming. Even the internet has taken notice, with gifs and pictures popping up of Harry’s curls and happy trail peeking out over the waistband of his jeans. 

(Not that Louis has Googled it or anything.)

Even the other boys have noticed. One night when they’re getting dressed before the show, Niall leans over and pokes at the dark hair on Harry’s stomach. “Letting yourself go there, Styles. What will the masses think?” he teases. 

“That I’m too lazy to groom? That it’s my body and I’ll be hairy if I want to?” Harry answers with a shrug, buttoning up his shirt. “Look at Liam. He’s practically a bear and you’re not saying anything about him?” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at where Liam’s changing his shirt. 

“You take that back! I’m not that hairy! Why are we talking about this anyway?” Liam gripes, pouting his lip out before turning around. 

“Because Niall has apparently been taking note of our beauty routines, Payno. Next he’s going to ask you about your wanking regimen. Gotta keep those pipes clear, you know,” Louis chimes in. He’s totally expecting the wadded up pair of socks that knocks him in the back of his head, probably from Niall. “Didn’t know you were so concerned, Niall. How very stalkerish of you.”

“Fuck off, Louis. I’m just saying, nobody likes pubes in their teeth.” 

Thankfully, Niall busies himself with other things and doesn’t notice the way Louis claps his mouth shut, or the smirk Harry sends him from across the room. That’s a level of honesty that he’s just not ready to have with his bandmates yet, if ever. He calms down when Harry blows him a kiss before he walks out to go finish getting ready. If Harry isn’t bothered, neither is he. 

It’s not always a thing, but sometimes it is. Both of them seem to be pretty content.

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Loved it? Leave a comment here or come visit me over on [hazandlouwho](http://www.hazandlouwho.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr!


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